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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118240">I Live To Spite</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturallesbain/pseuds/naturallesbain'>naturallesbain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Mental Health Of The Gang [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Child Abuse, Depression, Hurt No Comfort, Self-Harm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:53:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>587</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118240</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturallesbain/pseuds/naturallesbain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny's chapter in my Mental Health Of The Gang series </p><p>Please read tags before continuing </p><p> </p><p>Inspired by the fact that yesterday my mental health went down hill and I dont know if im gonna be able to recover.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Mental Health Of The Gang [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963348</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Live To Spite</h2></a>
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    <p>He met the gang when he went to the lot one day to escape his parents. They had been playing football and Pony had asked him what his name was. He had said his name and Pony must have misheard him because he said "Johnny Cakes, huh, nice name," and Johnny didnt have the guts to correct him. </p><p>It was only much later when he did, the shock written across Ponyboy's face sending him into fits of laughter and giggles, which sent the gang into a fit of laughter. </p><p>That was the first time they heard him laugh. </p><p>He wouldnt do that much more once he got older. </p><p>His parents got worse, beating him, screaming at him. He constantly ached from the kicks and hits, the bruises showing up sharply against his skin. </p><p>He got quieter as time went on, too. </p><p>He found ways to avoid talking, him being known now for just being quiet. </p><p>He hated that. </p><p>He hated being quiet but he had no other choice. </p><p>His voice annoyed his parents and he didnt want to seem annoying to the gang. </p><p>They were all he had left after all. </p><p>He didnt like being seen as a bother, too. He would go hours without drinking anything on a hot summers day because he didnt want to seem rude by asking to get a glass. </p><p>He only took what he was given. </p><p>That was how he got his blade. </p><p>Dallas had given it to him when he was around 15, the sharp and sleekness of the blade made him wonder the price and how much he owed the older man, but one look from him was all it took for him to realize that he never even payed for it. </p><p>He thanked him for the gift, swearing to himself that he would get something for Dallas in return. </p><p>That was how he got his habit started, though. </p><p>He'd take the blade and slice open the skin on his arms and legs, letting the thick red liquid run down and drip onto the towels placed below him. </p><p>Stains were easy to get out of towels, not tile after all. </p><p>The gang had always given him worried glances when they saw him wearing his signature jean jacket in the summer, but he just shrugged them off.</p><p>Because of his weight he was a naturally cold person, so it was easy to keep that excuse up. </p><p>Only Dallas knew of his habit.</p><p>He had been cleaning him up after a brutal beating from his father and he had seen the cuts on his wrists. </p><p>He had sworn Dallas to secrecy that night. </p><p>He could see the pain in his eyes when he did so, he could so how his eyes glistened for a few second before he glanced downwards. </p><p>It was like he cared about Johnny. </p><p>Nobody cares about Johnny, though. </p><p>Or at least thats what Johnny thinks. </p><p>-</p><p>His habit had picked up after the Curtis parents deaths, the only two parental figures in his life were gone and he didnt know how to handle it. </p><p>He had noticed the decline of the group, too. </p><p>Started noticing how Darry always worked, how Soda was dropping weight, how Pony was starting to wear more sleeves, how Dallas was starting to become more unstable.</p><p>Yet he couldn't do anything about it. </p><p>He could only cope by himself.</p><p>The blade tucked into his back jean pocket at all times, reminding him that it was an option. </p><p>It was comforting in a morbid way. </p><p> </p>
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